Mother's Day
by Zebediah
Summary: May 12, 2013: As the world starts to collapse around her, Adelle DeWitt tries to hang on to what she can of the Dollhouse. Set four years after "Omega", with flashbacks. Spoilers for "Epitaph One". COMPLETE - sequel coming soon!
1. Chapter 1

**Mother's Day**

**Chapter 1  
**_**May 12, 2013**_

At four o'clock in the morning, Adelle DeWitt gave up her attempt at sleep. Her mind was too unsettled by the events of the previous days, and she had important decisions to make.

She showered and dressed quickly. She had been sleeping in a small apartment she kept for herself in the Dollhouse, having been too tired to go home the night before. Besides, it was getting more and more dangerous to venture outside; she was safer inside the House, where her security team could block any attempt at intrusion, and where she was too deep underground for any rogue signal to penetrate and attempt to rewrite her mind.

Yes, it was much safer to stay where she was, for however long she could manage it.

She fought back the impulse to call Langton and find out whether or not Caroline and Ballard had returned yet – they'd been the only team outside the House when the attackers had struck. But DeWitt knew that her security chief wasn't in any position to answer her queries at the moment. It was partly because Boyd Langton was out of commission that she was anxious for Paul Ballard to return – he was Langton's backup.

She took the elevator to the main floor of the House. The lights were still dimmed for the night; all of the Actives were sleeping. An armed security operative challenged her, not letting her pass until he had verified her identity; she nodded in approval. Of course, anybody – even DeWitt herself – could be a sleeper agent, but she chose not to chase that particularly worrying rabbit at the moment. Instead, she headed for the imprinting room.

The lights were still on, and Topher Brink was eyeing his monitors carefully. Victor was seated in the imprinting chair behind him, occasionally twitching as the device literally re-wrote his nervous system.

"You're still at it?" DeWitt asked.

Topher nodded sleepily. "This is deep – way deep." He yawned. "Spent all day trying to root it out. I finally went for a deep wipe, all the way down to the basal ganglia. Full re-install of the operating system."

DeWitt walked over to Victor and looked down at him. "That sounds drastic," she said.

"It is," Topher agreed. "If the power had cut out to the chair – well, his brain didn't know how to tell his body what to do for a while there. It would have been bye-bye Victor."

"But this is working?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I did Charlie first – when he seemed stable, I turned him over to Dr. Saunders. She's got him in the infirmary. I've been monitoring him, and all looks A-OK. So I've been working on Victor since, um, what time is it now?"

"It's about four-thirty in the morning," DeWitt told him.

"Oh, wow," Topher said, blinking. "Uh, what day?"

"Sunday."

"Whoa." Topher shook his head. "That must be why I feel so tired."

"Any word from Caroline?" DeWitt asked.

"What? Oh, yeah, the recall signal." He yawned deeply. "I got a call from Paul. They're inbound. Soon as Caroline heard that her papa bear had been hurt…"

"She knows she's not really his daughter, Topher," DeWitt snapped.

"Yeah, well, that imprint was your idea, not mine."

"She had that imprint for all of twelve hours nearly four years ago."

"And neither one of them has ever gotten over it." Topher chuckled. "Besides, it's part of her composite, so she's got that inside her."

"But the imprints are supposed to be subsidiary to her original personality," DeWitt said.

"Yeah," Topher agreed. "But if an imprint happens to mesh with something that's part of her base personality – like, say, the need for a great big ugly man to be a daddy-figure…"

"He's not ugly," DeWitt protested.

Topher stared at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing.

"Did I say something amusing?" She glared at Topher, who was clearly struggling to regain his composure.

"Oh God, you really don't know, do you?" He wiped the tears from his eyes, and said, "I just still remember the look on your face when Echo got that imprint…"

_**

* * *

**_

June 21, 2009

"The House is hopping this morning," Paul Ballard said.

Boyd Langton nodded curtly in response. "It's Father's Day," he explained.

"Right," Ballard said, sounding skeptical. "Are there really that many guys desperate for someone to call them 'Daddy'?"

Langton chuckled as they walked into the imprinting room. "Hello, Topher," he said.

"Hi Boyd," Topher said, distracted. "She'll be done in a couple of minutes, Paul."

"Anyway, I asked the same question my first year with the police," Langton said. "Yeah, on Father's Day every hooker in town was booked by guys who wanted to hear them say that word."

"Great," Ballard said. "Pathetic losers with incest fantasies."

Langton shook his head. "What really surprised me was finding out how many of those men _didn't_ want to have sex with the girls they hired. The guys in Vice had to be careful – there's no law against soliciting a woman to have dinner with you, after all."

"And I'll point out," said a voice from behind them, "that we _don't_ book the Actives for romantic encounters on this day." The two men turned, and saw Adelle DeWitt smiling at them from the doorway. "There are a lot of men who regret the choices they've made – to focus on their careers instead of their families. We give them the opportunity to see what they've missed, if only for a day."

"Uh, yes ma'am," Ballard said. "Well, ordinarily that would be a low-risk engagement. There is one twist to this one – it's being done as a gift. The client doesn't know Echo's coming yet. Somebody else booked it for him."

"Really?" Langton said. "That could get complicated. His long-lost daughter that he didn't know he had suddenly walks into his life for a day?"

"Not to worry, Mr. Langton," DeWitt said. "The client already knows about the Dollhouse, so he'll figure it out quickly enough."

"I just wonder how anybody's going to believe that she's his daughter," Topher said, grinning. "They don't exactly look alike. Just sayin'."

"Real ugly son of a bitch, huh?" Langton commented.

"No, just, um…" Topher looked nervous. "He's kind, of, well, you see… he's black."

"Ah." Langton grinned. "Don't sweat it. I had a cousin who married a white guy, and her kids – well, Echo wouldn't look too far out of place in one of their family pictures."

"Ah, genetics," Topher said. "Don't you just love how things get all mixed up? Anyway, she's just about done with the imprint. Three, two, one…"

The chair powered down, and Echo sat up. She looked around the room, blinked, and then focused on Langton's face. "Daddy!" she shrieked, bouncing out of the chair. She ran towards him and hugged him tightly.

Langton's eyes went wide. "What?" he said, astonishment covering his face.

"I'm just glad to see you, Dad," Echo said. "I've got the whole day planned out. We're going to have fun, whether you like it or not."

Langton cleared his throat. "Well, I, um…"

"Echo, why don't you go get ready?" Ballard suggested.

"Oh, right," Echo said, letting go of Langton. "Dad, have you met my friend Paul? You'd like him – he's a Federal agent. Just friends, by the way, nothing serious."

"Uh, yeah, we've met," Langton said, clearly uncomfortable.

"Well then," DeWitt said. "The sooner you get ready, Echo, the sooner the two of you can be off."

"Great!" Echo said. Then she gave DeWitt a quick hug. "Thanks for helping me set this up, Mom. I couldn't have done it without you!" Then she walked out the door, smiling and saying, "Back in a minute!"

Langton turned towards DeWitt with fury in his eyes. "You!" he said, pointing at her.

DeWitt suddenly realized that her mouth was hanging open in surprise. She closed it, and then turned quickly and pointed a finger at Topher. "_You!_" she hissed.

"Me?" Topher squeaked. "Uh-uh, not me."

"Is this some kind of a joke?" Langton asked.

"It's _supposed_ to be a gift, Boyd," DeWitt said. "You're so paternal towards her, we thought we'd make it real for a day. What _wasn't_ in the script was for me to be her mother."

"Hey, that didn't come from me," Topher protested. "All I put into the imprint about her mother is that her parents split when she was a baby. The rest is all Echo filling in the blanks."

"But the idea of it…" DeWitt shook her head. "I'm not even old enough to be her mother."

"Actually, ma'am, you are," Ballard said. "You're what, fifteen years older than her? I can look up the number of fifteen-year-olds who give birth every year if you like."

"But I _wasn't_ a teenaged mother, thank you very much," DeWitt snapped.

"And Boyd didn't make a baby with you," Topher said. "We get that. But it's all real to Echo."

"Look at it as a compliment," Ballard suggested. "She was looking for a good mother figure, she picked you."

DeWitt fumed. "We'll discuss this in detail later, Topher. But I am _not_ pleased."

Then Langton let out a low chuckle. "You know, I think I'm going to enjoy this engagement after all. So does anyone know what my daughter has planned for me?"

_**

* * *

**_

May 12, 2013

DeWitt shook her head sharply, her thoughts returning to the present. "Forget it. How is Victor progressing?"

"I'll have him back to the sweet, innocent blank slate we all know and love in a few minutes," Topher assured her. "After that – well, who do you want me to put in him?"

"Himself," DeWitt said. "All of him."

Topher looked confused. "Uh, what?"

"Composite him," she ordered. "His original personality, plus all of his imprints. No, wait; leave out the Dominic imprint, except for Mr. Dominic's knowledge of our internal security procedures. And his NSA experience. But leave the rest of _him_ out."

"Hey, no argument there," Topher said. "And if he goes Alpha on us?"

"He won't," DeWitt said. "You said yourself – Alpha was Alpha because he was crazy _before_ he came to us. Caroline's been composited for three years now without any glitches, hasn't she?"

"Except for the nasty migraines," Topher said. "Look, I can do this, but…"

"Yes, Topher, I understand the implications," DeWitt said. "I'm setting him free. If he wants to remain with us, that's his decision."

Topher whistled. "Okay. You're the boss."

"So you have no further objections?"

Topher shook his head. "After I saw what Rossum did to him? No ma'am. No objections."

DeWitt smiled. "That's my boy."

"I'll get right on it."

"Get some sleep after that," DeWitt ordered him. "You're going to be busy. I want you to composite the rest of the Actives too."

Topher's eyes went wide. "_All_ of them?"

"Rossum has violated the terms of their contracts," DeWitt said. "So they're going free. All of them."

Topher whistled. "Of course, you know this means war."

"It already is war, Topher. They attacked us first." She turned on her heel and walked out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
**_**May 12, 2013**_

DeWitt snatched a quick breakfast before she headed to the infirmary to check on the wounded. They'd been lucky, from one perspective; the attack had cost the House only one dead and a dozen or so injured, only three of them seriously. Unfortunately, one of the serious injuries belonged to Boyd Langton.

She found Dr. Saunders in a chair next to Langton's bed, sleeping slumped forward with her head resting on Langton's chest. DeWitt paused for a moment, looking at Saunders' face. Her scars weren't nearly as noticeable in the dim light, and for a moment DeWitt could forget the terrible injuries she had suffered five years earlier at the hands of a rogue Active. Langton, on the other hand, was an immediate reminder of the damage that three rogue Actives had managed to inflict less than forty-eight hours before.

DeWitt was about to withdraw when Saunders awoke with a start. The doctor looked around in confusion for a moment before her eyes focused on DeWitt.

"Oh, hello, Ms. DeWitt," she said in a subdued voice.

"I'm sorry," DeWitt said. "I wasn't going to wake you."

"No, you should have," Saunders replied. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. I have other patients…"

"You can't help them if you're exhausted," DeWitt said. "I'm glad you got a little bit of sleep, anyway. How is Mr. Langton?"

"Stable," Saunders said.

"And awake," Langton croaked in a hoarse voice.

"Oh, Boyd," Saunders said, rushing to get him a glass of water from the sink. "Here, drink this."

Langton took a deep drink of water, and then coughed, which caused a spasm of pain to contort his face. "I guess I forgot to duck," he whispered.

"How are you feeling?" DeWitt asked.

"I've felt worse," Langton said. "That arrow I took in the gut my first month here…"

"That may have felt worse, but this did far more damage," Saunders objected. "You're not getting out of bed for at least a week."

Langton hesitated, then nodded. He looked up at DeWitt and asked, "Status?"

"We're secure," DeWitt said, keeping her face as expressionless as she could. "Only one dead – Zulu – and Topher has managed to isolate and remove the sleeper program from Victor and Charlie. Three serious injuries, including yours."

Langton closed his eyes. "We were lucky," he said.

"You call this lucky?" Saunders asked.

"He's right," DeWitt said. "Rossum hurt us, but not nearly as badly as they might have. We've contained the internal threat and are on guard against further attempts. They bungled this operation. If they'd handled it properly –"

"We'd all be dead," Langton finished.

"Or worse," DeWitt added.

"Yeah," Langton agreed. "Or worse."

Saunders shuddered. None of them needed to say aloud what the worse possibility was.

"What about Caroline and Paul?" Langton asked. "Any news?"

"Topher's made contact and they're on their way back to the House," DeWitt said. "I don't have an ETA."

"Caroline will be their next target –"

"She knows that, Boyd," DeWitt said. "She can take care of herself. You designed her self-defense program yourself, remember?"

_**

* * *

**_

January 22, 2010

Adelle DeWitt sat back in her office chair and eyed the three men on the other side of her desk warily. "You know my objections to this plan," she said.

"And you know our answers to those objections," Langton said. "So does this discussion have a point?"

"We're exposing ourselves to a terrible risk," she answered. "Surely you remember Alpha."

"Hey, we've been through that," Topher Brink protested. "Alpha was crazy _before_ he composited, remember? Crazy at a level that the imprints couldn't touch. Echo isn't. You saw how she was when Alpha composited her. She was on _our_ side."

"So what you're claiming is –"

"Is that the original personality persists to some extent even after a wipe, yes," Topher said. "We've seen it with Echo, we've seen it with Victor."

"And you know better than any of us what Caroline was like," Paul Ballard added. "You met her."

"Yes, I did meet her," DeWitt agreed. "After she'd penetrated the Rossum Corporation's security and broken into their labs."

"She wasn't a criminal," Ballard protested. "Just an animal rights activist."

"A fanatic, nonetheless," DeWitt said.

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Ballard insisted. "Turn that passion towards the right cause, and she could be incredibly valuable."

"Just like your passion was valuable to the FBI?" DeWitt asked pointedly.

Langton let out a short bark of laughter. "Paul was trying to, first, prove that the Dollhouse existed, and second, to get inside it," he observed. "He succeeded in both of those objectives."

"And I wouldn't have if I hadn't been so determined," Ballard added. "Caroline has that same kind of determination. Set her free, and she'll _voluntarily_ accept whatever imprints are needed to accomplish her mission."

"Would she?" DeWitt asked. "How do we know what Caroline composited with _all_ of her various imprints would look like?"

Topher grinned. "Let me show you," he said. "Uh, can I borrow that terminal?" He went to the computer terminal on DeWitt's desk and typed in a few commands. An image came up on the screen.

"This is Echo's original psychograph," Topher explained. "Not totally stable, but far from psychotic." He typed in a few more commands, and a different image appeared. "This is the projected psychograph of a composited Echo. It's still the same basic shape – her original persona is still in control – but it's _more_ stable than she was before. Just as passionate, but less likely to dive headfirst into some half-baked plan."

DeWitt eyed the graph on her screen curiously. "And her intelligence…"

"Off the scale," Topher said. "IQ somewhere in the mid-two hundreds. Not measurable by normal means, anyway. That's one side benefit of having forty-one different neural patterns processing information simultaneously. She's Superwoman."

"And she's on our side," Ballard said.

"But not under our control," DeWitt pointed out.

Langton cleared his throat. "It ought to be possible to design a number of fail-safes into her imprint, so that we could shut her down in the event that something went wrong. I don't think we'll ever need to use them – we've seen how Echo can take care of herself. But it wouldn't hurt to have them as a backup."

DeWitt frowned. "Ordinarily, I'd simply tell you to forget the whole thing. Unfortunately, though, I have instructions to the contrary."

"What do you mean?" Langton asked.

"Somehow my superiors at Rossum have gotten wind of your proposal, and are interested in – experimenting."

"They know about this?" Ballard asked.

"How did they find out?" Langton asked at the same time.

"It's _your_ job to find that out, Mr. Langton," DeWitt said pointedly. "In the meantime, we're going to proceed – cautiously. Topher, create a thorough and detailed plan of exactly how you intend to carry this out, and consult with Mr. Ballard and Mr. Langton about including suitable failsafes. _Don't_ proceed with the actual imprint until I've approved the plan."

Topher grinned hugely, and said, "Yes, Mother."

"And _don't_ call me that," DeWitt snapped back. "You know how much I hate it."

_**

* * *

**_

May 12, 2013

"I designed it, yes," Langton agreed. "But Rossum has the specifications. If there's any way to bypass the failsafes –"

"We'll just have to rely on Mr. Ballard to prevent that from happening, won't we?" DeWitt asked.

"And Caroline," Saunders added. "As exceptionally intelligent as she is, she's probably able to defeat any program they try to imprint her with. Not to mention that they'd have to compromise something over sixty different subpersonalities in order to take complete control of her…"

"Sixty-seven," Langton said. "Last time I counted."

"You still keep count?" Saunders asked.

Langton shrugged. "Old habit."

"Boyd Langton," DeWitt said, smiling. "You are quite something, let me tell you."

Langton shrugged again. "She was just somebody I was responsible for, Adelle. You're the one who turned her into family."

"Well, that certainly came back to haunt me, didn't it?" DeWitt asked wryly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_**May 12, 2013**_

Midmorning, DeWitt made her way to the imprinting room to check on Topher's progress. Some success was immediately evident; Victor was sitting upright in the chair, rubbing his temples, while Topher peered intently at his monitors.

"He's stable," Topher said to DeWitt as soon as he noticed her presence. "Fully composited and with his primary personality in control. No signs of instability or sleeper programming."

"How do you feel?" DeWitt asked Victor.

"You mean, besides the feeling that my brain is too big for my skull?" Victor asked.

"That will fade," DeWitt assured him. "Unfortunately, you'll have severe migraines from time to time, and there doesn't seem to be a way around that. At least, that's been Caroline's experience."

"Caroline?" Victor asked, momentarily confused. Then he said, "Oh, Echo. Right. You did something to her, but I never could figure out what until now."

_**

* * *

**_

March 4, 2010

"Hello, Caroline," DeWitt said.

The woman who had been, until that day, called Echo didn't respond. She was standing on the balcony overlooking the central floor of the Dollhouse, watching the comings and goings of the Actives with seeming fascination.

"Am I Caroline?" she asked.

"You tell me," DeWitt challenged.

"Caroline is here," she said. "And others. But they're all – _becoming_ Caroline. Different parts of me, but all me." She held up her hand, staring at it intently. "There's more of my mind than there used to be. Caroline wasn't this big."

"But who's in charge?" DeWitt asked.

"Oh, Caroline is," she said. "I guess 'Caroline' is as good a name as any."

DeWitt smiled. "Well, that's settled. At least I know what to call you."

Caroline smiled back. "It's been interesting, figuring out how to fit all of the pieces together. Esther has helped me a lot – she can get most of the others to cooperate." She looked back down at the floor, and added, "Taffy, on the other hand, has been a complete bitch. She absolutely does not want to get with the program."

"I'm sure she'll come around," DeWitt assured her. "She's the one who's most like you, I think."

Caroline shrugged. "Aside from the fact that she's a completely amoral criminal, I suppose you're right."

"So how do you feel?" DeWitt asked.

Caroline looked up at the ceiling. "It's hard to draw a comparison," she said. "I'm – bigger. I can see patterns, relationships that I couldn't before. A lot of things that just didn't make sense before suddenly do." She smiled, and said, "You'd think having so many minds to make up would make it harder, but it doesn't."

"And what have you decided?" DeWitt asked.

"For one thing," Caroline said, turning to look DeWitt in the eye, "I've decided not to kill you."

DeWitt took a step backwards. "I suppose I ought to be relieved by that," she said nervously.

"And I could, too," Caroline continued. "I've got so many different kinds of combat training, it's ridiculous. I know just where to hit you to break your neck. None of the security staff could make it here in time to stop me."

"Was it a serious option?" DeWitt asked.

"The old Caroline would have done it in a heartbeat," she answered.

"I'm not sure I believe that," DeWitt said. "You were always passionate in your beliefs, but…"

"But not a killer?" Caroline finished for her. "I'm a zealot. And after what you've done to me – tell me I don't have a damned good motive."

"So what's stopping you?"

"You're my mother," Caroline said.

DeWitt just stared at her. "That damned imprint you gave me last year," Caroline continued. "I can see why you made Boyd into my father – I really liked that part. But what the hell made you cast _yourself_ as my mother?"

"That wasn't my doing," DeWitt protested. "Topher insists you came up with that all by yourself."

"Maybe," Caroline admitted. "I never really got along with my real mother either. Still, I just can't tear out my own mother's beating heart, no matter how much she deserves it. Even if she isn't my mother."

"I suppose I should be grateful," DeWitt said.

"I'll send you a card on Mother's Day," Caroline said. "Now, when is the other shoe going to drop?"

"What do you mean?"

Caroline glared at her. "I know how long I've been here. I know my contract isn't up yet. You aren't just letting me go."

"Actually, that's up to you," DeWitt said.

"So I'm free to – just go," Caroline said doubtfully.

"If you like," DeWitt answered.

"And you'd let me?"

"I honestly don't think we could stop you, short of killing you," DeWitt admitted.

"So why should I stay?"

"Because the technology that makes imprinting possible is no longer the exclusive property of the Rossum Corporation," DeWItt said.

Caroline's eyes widened. "What?"

"The Moscow Dollhouse was infiltrated by a Russian crime syndicate a few months ago," DeWitt explained. "They managed to steal enough of the tech to start their own operation. They were already involved in human trafficking – now they can create willing slaves for their customers."

"Just like you," Caroline taunted.

"_Not_ just like us," DeWitt insisted. "You are all volunteers, and when your contracts expire, you're allowed to go free. And with a substantial payment for your time. This… is something else altogether."

Caroline eyed her warily. "And you want me to do something about it?"

"Paul Ballard was already familiar with the organization in question from his days with the government," DeWitt said. "He's leading the team that is trying to neutralize it, before this technology slips through _their_ fingers."

"God," Caroline said, suddenly understanding. "Imprinting technology loose on the street… Okay, I'm in. Who do you need me to be?"

_**

* * *

**_

May 12, 2013

"You remember that?" DeWitt asked in surprise.

"I remember everything," Victor said. "Except for the last two weeks, apparently."

"Sorry, bro," Topher said. "We had to get rid of everything that happened to you after you last left here. It was the only way to be sure we'd gotten rid of the programming that Rossum did to you."

Victor nodded, and then put his hand to his face, tracing what had once been a pattern of scars. "I missed some interesting things, it seems."

DeWitt nodded. "We had sent you to our parent organization for some regenerative therapy," she explained. "They had developed a means to completely heal your injuries. You, Charlie and Zulu all received treatments for wounds received during the course of your contracts."

"But…" Victor began.

"You were returned to us… imprinted," DeWitt said. "You were being used to provide one of the Rossum Corporation's executives with a new, younger body. A 'full-anatomy upgrade', he called it."

"You mean – he wasn't going to release me when my contract was up." Victor didn't seem surprised.

DeWitt nodded. "And your contract _is_ up, or nearly – you have a few weeks left. So I had Mr. Alphonse erased from your brain. Unfortunately, there was some deeper programming than we knew about that remained even after the wipe."

Victor nodded. "How many dead?" he asked.

"Only one," DeWitt explained. "Charlie and Zulu were also programmed to attack the House in the event that we – that I – chose to defy my superiors. Zulu was killed in the subsequent chaos. Mr. Langton and several handlers were wounded. We managed to subdue you and Charlie without harming you, though."

Victor shook his head sadly. "I don't remember any of that. How did you stop me?"

"We didn't," DeWitt explained. "Sierra did."

"Sierra?" Victor looked alarmed. "Is she all right?"

"She's unharmed," DeWitt assured him. "After you shot Mr. Langton, she put herself between you and him. And you wouldn't – you could have killed her, but you just froze."

"Sierra," he muttered softly.

"Apparently some things go deeper than the programming Rossum gave you," DeWitt said.

Victor closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "So, you're now at war with your parent corporation over the Actives," he said. "What now?"

"I'm releasing you – all of you – from your contracts," DeWitt said. "We're going to restore your original personalities, and then composite you with all of the imprints you've ever had. This will not only make you dramatically more intelligent, but Topher believes that it will also make you far more resistant to any hostile programming attempts by our enemies. Or by anyone else."

A snore interrupted their conversation. DeWitt looked over to Topher, who had fallen asleep, his head resting on his computer keyboard.

"Help me get him to the sofa," DeWitt said softly.

"How long has he been awake?" Victor asked as they moved him.

"Something over forty-eight hours," DeWitt said. "It's been a long couple of days for all of us." She looked down at Topher, lying prone on the sofa, and she placed her hand gently on his shoulder. "Sleep, Topher," she whispered. "And don't dream."

"When he wakes up," Victor said, "Sierra is first in line for imprinting." He didn't phrase it as a question.

DeWitt nodded. "I'll tell him." She looked down at the main floor of the House, where several Actives were now awake and going through the simple routines of their normal lives.

"So why did you do it?" Victor asked.

She gave him a confused look, so he elaborated. "Why did you defy your superiors? Why risk it? You could have just let them take us."

DeWitt turned back to stare down at the Actives on the central floor again. She was silent for a long moment. Then she said, "I could have. I could even have joined them – they made me that offer. But I couldn't. You – all of you – are under my care. It would have been a violation of trust."

Victor eyed her dubiously. "I don't remember you caring so much before," he said.

"Don't you?" she asked, without turning to look him in the eye.

"Not about the Actives," Victor said. "About this place, about your job, yes. About us – no."

"Things have changed," DeWitt told him. "A lot of things have changed. The entire world has changed – more than you realize. In the five years you've been in this House, the world outside these walls has changed nearly beyond recognition."

"So you've changed." Victor didn't look convinced.

"I suppose I have," DeWitt admitted.

"One more thing," Victor said. DeWitt looked at him curiously, so he continued. "I'm still figuring out who I am – with all of these personalities bumping around inside my head, it's a bit confusing. So you can keep calling me 'Victor' for now, until I decide differently."

"Of course," DeWitt said softly.

"But _don't_, under any circumstances, call me 'Roger'," he said harshly. "And I promise in return I won't call you 'Katherine'."

DeWitt felt her expression grow harder. "Agreed," she said coldly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4  
**_**May 12, 2013**_

Shortly after lunch, Adelle DeWitt was heading back to the infirmary to check on Boyd Langton when she heard a disturbance on the main floor. She saw several armed guards moving to cover the elevator doors.

"Don't fire unless I give the command," Victor ordered the guards, brandishing an Uzi. "These are our people until they prove otherwise."

"What's going on?" DeWitt asked.

"Ballard and Echo are coming down the elevator," Victor explained. "But until we know they're definitely still themselves, we're not taking chances."

"Sensible," DeWitt said, nodding in approval.

"Now, if you don't mind, ma'am, could you take cover?" It was clear from Victor's tone that it wasn't a request. DeWitt saw the sense in that too, and took cover behind a wall.

She heard the elevator doors slide open, and then she heard Caroline's voice call out, "Hold your fire! We've got a wounded man here!"

"Get their weapons," Victor ordered, "and notify Doctor Saunders that we have incoming wounded."

DeWitt moved out from behind the wall and saw Caroline supporting Paul Ballard, who was clearly in intense pain. "What happened?" she asked.

"We ran into some old friends," Ballard said, gasping.

"The Borodins ambushed us just inside the city limits," Caroline explained while she allowed the guards to confiscate her pistol and several knives. "Apparently they're not letting a little thing like the complete collapse of civilization get in the way of important things like revenge."

_**

* * *

**_

June 2, 2011

"By now, I'm sure you're all familiar with the events that occurred in Sacramento this morning," DeWitt began.

She had called a meeting of the House's senior staff in her office. Boyd Langton stood to one side of her desk. Claire Saunders and Topher Brink both sat in chairs facing her, while Paul Ballard and Caroline stood behind them. They all nodded, having heard about the explosion that had leveled four blocks of downtown Sacramento.

"The news media are calling this the second-worst terrorist attack in the history of this nation," she continued. "However, it is actually much worse than they are reporting."

"How?" Ballard asked.

"At the same time as the explosion, a large electromagnetic pulse blanketed much of the city," DeWitt explained. All of the others except Topher gasped in surprise.

"A pulse bomb," Topher muttered.

Everyone turned to look at him, so he explained. "It's all been theoretical until now. But it's possible to create a fusion bomb that produces a large pulse of electromagnetic energy that would zap any unprotected electrical circuits within a certain range. It wouldn't even have to be that big of a bomb – fusion bombs can be made pretty much any size, as long as you can pack in something powerful enough to start the fusion reaction."

"So you think this was an atomic bomb?" Langton asked.

"Hydrogen bomb, Boyd. And yeah, that would do it. A small one – maybe small enough to fit in a suitcase."

"So what's the other shoe?" Caroline asked.

DeWitt pressed her lips tightly together. "The other shoe," she said, "is that this pulse was encoded to wipe people's minds."

Caroline's mouth formed a silent "Oh."

Topher blinked several times. "Wiped – as in, wiped? Uh, I mean…"

"I know what you mean, Topher, and yes, that's precisely the case," DeWitt said. "Nearly forty thousand people are now wandering around the city of Sacramento with no memory and no identity. So far, the government has managed to keep the news media from broadcasting _that_ particular detail."

Langton coughed. "So what you're saying is that somebody has gotten access to imprinting technology and used it to create a device that can wipe the memories of entire _cities_?"

"And they've just tested it," DeWitt added.

Dr. Saunders looked down at the floor. "We were supposed to prevent this from happening," she said softly.

"And we did," Ballard said. "We took down the entire technical staff that the Borodins had assembled to make use of their stolen imprinting technology. And even if we hadn't, they don't have the kind of resources it would take to build a bomb like that. Whoever did this, it wasn't them."

"Right," Caroline added. "This wasn't the Borodins. It wasn't Alpha either. It would take a government to pull off something like this."

"Either way, whether it's a government or a criminal organization, one thing remains the same," Langton said. "We are no longer the only ones with this technology. The genie is out of the bottle."

"A pulse bomb," Topher muttered.

"What's that?" DeWitt asked.

"It's crazy, that's what it is," Topher said, rising from his seat. He began to pace around the room and wave his arms in agitation. "They're going at it entirely the wrong way. Hack into the TV networks, broadcast it over the radio – you could even do it over the phone network. Alpha did it that way. A bomb – that's insane."

"I'm not following you," Langton said.

"Bombs, Boyd! Nobody does bombs any more!" Topher's voice rose to a hysterical pitch. "It's so crude! It's so twentieth-century! They don't have a clue what they're doing!"

"Calm down, Topher," DeWitt snapped.

"Telephones, that's the way to do it," Topher went on as if she hadn't spoken. "Make everyone's phone ring at the same time, and when they answer – zap! Stuff a whole new personality into their heads."

"Wait a minute," Ballard said. "You could imprint someone over the phone?"

"Any electronic device!" Topher said. "There's more computing power in the average boom box these days than was in the chair we were using when I first started here! And any single one of them could be compromised. Reprogram the tech, reprogram the people – if you can do one, you're most of the way to being able to do the other. Boyd, you got it wrong. The genie isn't out of the bottle – it's _in_ the bottle. _All_ of the bottles. Any computer, any phone, any TV – any one of them could have a genie hiding inside it, waiting to jump out and grab your brain."

Just then, the phone on DeWitt's desk rang. They all stared at it silently for a long moment.

Then DeWitt slowly reached out and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" she said cautiously, while the others watched her. Then she raised a finger to let everyone know the call was legitimate.

She listened for nearly two minutes, and then said, "Thank you. Inform me immediately if anything else develops." She hung up the phone and sat back in her chair. Everyone stared at her curiously.

"A Chinese communications satellite," she announced, "has begun broadcasting a signal directed at Sacramento. The signal appears to be encoded to imprint a mind that has been wiped."

"Imprint them with _what_?" Caroline asked.

"Unknown," DeWitt said.

Caroline looked at Ballard, and they both nodded. "We're on our way," Ballard said.

"What?" Saunders stared at them. "On your way to where?"

"Sacramento," Caroline explained. "We need to find out what those people are being imprinted with. If we're going to stop this, that's the first step."

"_Are_ we going to stop this?" Langton asked.

"If it's within our power, yes," DeWitt said.

"That's a big 'if'," Langton observed.

"I'm painfully aware of that, Mr. Langton," DeWitt spat. "Now, please do what you can to allow Caroline and Mr. Ballard to depart as soon as they are able."

_**

* * *

**_

May 12, 2013

Doctor Saunders hurried onto the main floor. "Situation?" she asked, moving to examine Ballard.

"Fractured fourth and fifth ribs on the left side," Caroline said. "I think his spleen is ruptured also, but I'm not positive."

"You should see the other guys," Ballard said, wincing as Saunders examined his ribs.

"You'd better have Topher check us both out, to make sure they didn't flash us," Caroline added. "I don't think they did, but you never know."

"Topher's asleep," DeWitt said. "Dr. Saunders, is Ivy well enough to work?"

"She should be," Saunders said. "But I need to get Paul into surgery right away. Caroline was right about the spleen. His scan will have to wait."

Ballard nodded. "Keep me sedated until you're sure I'm clean," he said.

"Don't worry," DeWitt said, while two of the guards readied a stretcher for Ballard. "After what happened, we aren't taking any chances on that front."

"And why the hell is Topher asleep at a time like this?" Caroline demanded.

"Because he was awake for nearly sixty hours straight," DeWitt snapped.

"Right, let's get Ivy up here then," Caroline said. "How's Boyd?"

"Recuperating," DeWitt said. "But not well enough to get out of bed yet."

"So who's in charge of security?"

Victor spoke up. "I am."

Caroline turned to look at him. It turned into a long, intense stare. "You're composited," she finally said.

"Since this morning," Victor confirmed. "When Topher wakes up, he gets started on the rest of us."

Caroline turned to give DeWitt a long, appraising look. "You're not going to just evacuate the House and turn everyone loose, are you?" she asked skeptically.

"Where would we all go?" DeWitt asked. "You know what it's like out there better than I do, Caroline."

Caroline frowned. "It's bad."

"How bad?"

"Inside the city? It's _The Road Warrior_," she answered. "Farther east – did you ever see that movie where Kevin Costner played a mailman?"

"I'm afraid I skipped that one," DeWitt admitted.

Caroline shrugged. "Well, if you're looking for a place to run to, there isn't one. You're probably better off here for now."

"For now," DeWitt agreed. "As for a safe haven – if we can't find one, we'll just have to make one, won't we?"

"Right," Caroline said, nodding in approval. "We'll talk more after Ivy scans me."

Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a battered envelope. "Oh, by the way, happy Mother's Day," she said, handing the envelope to DeWitt.

DeWitt stared at the envelope. "What's this?"

"Did you forget the date?" Caroline said, grinning. "I promised you a card." Then she turned on her heel and headed for the imprinting room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
**_**May 12, 2013**_

In the middle of the afternoon, Adelle DeWitt headed for the infirmary to check on Dr. Saunders' patients. Just outside the door, though, she ran into Caroline, who had Charlie in tow.

"Topher asked me to bring him up," Caroline explained. "He's awake, and he has Sierra in the chair right now. Charlie's next."

"So _that_ explains why Victor has been hovering outside Topher's door," DeWitt said with a wry grin.

Caroline laughed. "Yeah, those two crazy kids. Interlocking emotional needs – it's no wonder they bonded so tightly even when they were wiped."

"Interesting insight," DeWitt said.

"Hey, I have five doctoral degrees in psychology stuffed into my head," Caroline countered, "which is about ten times more than _you_ have, Ms. Never-Finished-Her-Dissertation. I can't _help_ analyzing people's motives."

"So do tell me your interpretation of their relationship," DeWitt prompted.

"It's simple. Victor has a hero-complex, something that seems to be pretty common among the men in this place," Caroline explained. "Show him somebody who's a victim, and he'll get all noble and protective."

"So when he saw Sierra being abused…" DeWitt began.

"He did what he could to look out for her. Sierra, on the other hand, needs somebody she can trust _not_ to take advantage of her. And that's Victor. He'll die for her, or kill for her, but he'll _never_ hurt her."

DeWitt nodded. "As he proved during the… incident."

"Exactly," Caroline said. "God, Addie, why do you have to surround me with all of these Lancelot types? Boyd and Victor at least know their limitations. But Paul still thinks _he's_ protecting _me_, in spite of all the times I've dragged him back here bleeding or mind-burned or both."

_**

* * *

**_

October 14, 2011

The chair powered down, and Paul Ballard made an effort to rise from it. "That hurt more than you said it would," he complained. Then he looked down at his arm and said, "What the hell?"

His left arm was encased from wrist to elbow in a fiberglass cast. And he had no memory of how it had gotten there.

"Sorry about that," Caroline told him. She was standing between Adelle DeWitt and Boyd Langton. None of them had been in the room when the scan had started. "I had to break your arm to subdue you after you got flashed."

"Flashed?" he repeated, confused.

"Wiped and imprinted," Topher explained from his seat by the monitors. "Good thing we backed you up before you left."

"Oh," Ballard said. "How long?"

"A little over a month," Caroline answered.

Ballard frowned. "Hope we had a great time in Vegas," he said bitterly.

"Oh, it was fantastic." Caroline's voice had an edge of raw sarcasm in it. "Three weeks digging through the rubble of the MGM Grand. Loved every minute of it."

"It seems that somebody did a 9-11 and flew a jet plane into it," Langton explained. "And since the Vegas Dollhouse is directly underneath…"

"So we just, what, commandeered some construction equipment and started digging?" Ballard guessed.

Caroline nodded. "Nobody noticed. Vegas is a ghost town. We didn't even find any bodies in the wreckage – the building must have been nearly empty when it came down."

"And the House?" Ballard asked.

"Abandoned," Caroline said. "Shut down and most of the equipment pulled out. And they booby-trapped it before they left – that's where you got flashed."

"Let me guess," Ballard said. "I got the homicidal maniac package."

Caroline grinned. "Why do you think I had to break your arm?"

"But you're okay?" Ballard asked.

"Oh yeah. I got the flash too, but what's one more personality when you've already got fifty? Biggest problem was keeping you sedated while I dragged your sorry – and extremely _heavy_ – ass back here. And that took longer than it should have. The CHP has blockaded Interstate 15 at the state line, so I had to take a detour through Death Valley."

"Damn." Ballard stood up slowly, wincing as he discovered several bruises and pulled muscles. "I suppose the situation is still deteriorating?"

"There have been more than twenty attacks, seemingly at random, all over the world in the last month," DeWitt said. "The official story is still that the Chinese are responsible, but they're getting attacked as well. Nobody really knows who's doing it."

"We're safe here," Langton said. "We're far enough underground, and shielded, that no signal can reach us."

"So, what – we just hide down here while the world ends?" Ballard didn't bother hiding the anger in his voice.

"We survive," DeWitt countered. "We continue to do what we can for the outside world, but above all we protect our own."

"There's still work to do on the outside," Caroline said. "And I'm going to keep doing it."

Ballard nodded. "I'm with you, then," he said. "I've got your back."

_**

* * *

**_

May 12, 2013

"Let them keep their illusions," DeWitt said as they approached Topher's door. "Hello, Victor."

Charlie spoke up then. "I'm ready for my treatment."

Victor nodded. "They're still finishing up with Sierra, but you're next."

"It will help me be my best," Charlie added.

"Charlie, my friend, after this treatment, you'll be the best you've ever been," Victor assured him.

Charlie beamed in uncomprehending delight. "That's good."

Just then Ivy poked her head out the door. "We're ready for him now," she said. "Sierra's done."

"Go on in, Charlie," DeWitt said gently.

Then Sierra came out of the lab door, looking around in wonder, with Topher just behind her. "Wow," she said, taking in the view of the House. "It's amazing."

"How do you feel?" DeWitt asked.

"Like I just woke up," she answered. Then she turned and saw Victor, and her face lit up.

"Hi, Sierra," Victor said, looking unexpectedly shy and nervous.

"Priya," she said, reaching out to take Victor's hands in hers. "My name is Priya."

Victor smiled. "I like that," he said. "It suits you."

"Well, of course it suits me, silly," Sierra answered. "It's my name." Then she took a step closer to him, and they wrapped their arms around each other and shared a long, deep kiss.

DeWitt smiled indulgently at them, until Topher said, "Gosh, get a room, you two."

Sierra gave Victor a look that clearly said she thought that was an excellent idea. But Victor shook his head. "I'd love to," he explained, "but you're due to have a splitting headache in about ten minutes, and it might spoil the mood."

"Lover-boy's right," Caroline said, chuckling a bit. "Give those personalities some more time to integrate, sister. By tonight, it should all be blue skies."

Sierra laughed and said, "No, you've got Taffy in you too? God, this is so weird, being so many different people at once."

"You get used to it," Caroline assured her.

"How are you doing, Topher?" DeWitt asked.

"Four hours of sleep and I'm good to go," he told her. "We've got this down to a system – Ivy runs the chair while I prep the next composite imprint. Once we get rolling, I think we can get them all done by tonight."

"Good work," DeWitt said. "Let me know when they're all complete. I'll want to speak with everyone."

Caroline gave her a quirky smile. "Looking forward to all of the kids growing up and leaving the nest?"

"You have no idea," DeWitt answered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
**_**May 12, 2013**_

By 11:00 PM, Topher was finished with the imprints. The main floor of the House was crowded with former Actives and their former handlers, all trying to come to terms with the latest abrupt change in their lives. In one corner, Dr. Saunders stood between two wheelchairs, one holding Boyd Langton and the other the semi-conscious form of Paul Ballard.

"So what are you going to tell them? Caroline asked.

"The truth," Adelle DeWitt answered, standing on the balcony and looking down at the scene. "All of it. And I expect you to do the same."

Caroline nodded. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm with you on this one."

DeWitt turned and gave Caroline a surprised stare.

"Hey, I got what I always wanted, didn't I?" Caroline explained. "They're all free now."

DeWitt nodded curtly. "It's a sort of freedom, anyway," she mused.

Then she faced the crowd below her and said in a loud voice, "May I please have everyone's attention?"

DeWitt waited for the conversation to die down to continue. "I feel I have some explaining to do."

She began walking down the stairs. "As you're no doubt quite aware by now, I have implemented some radical changes in the operation of this House. There are a number of reasons for this, which I am now going to explain.

"During the past three years, some momentous events have occurred, both inside and outside these walls. The world most of you Actives remember is gone, changed beyond recognition. And I fear that change is irrevocable."

She paused halfway down the stairs. "I'm going to ask Caroline to explain the nature of those changes. Many of you knew her as Echo. She's been outside, and has first-hand knowledge of the current state of affairs."

Caroline nodded, and began, "It's a war zone out there."

She paused for a minute to let that sink in before continuing. "The technology that enables wiping and imprinting is no longer under the control of the Dollhouse. It's gotten into the wrong hands – many wrong hands. And it's been used as a weapon. We don't know exactly who's behind it, but that's beyond the point by now."

She saw that she had everyone's undivided attention now. "People are being imprinted at random," she said. "I'd guess that about half of the people left alive in the greater Los Angeles area have been affected. And by the way, the number of people left alive is a lot lower than it used to be. About three quarters of the original population is gone, dead or evacuated. And of the rest, like I said, half of them aren't themselves any more. Maybe a third of the people affected are simply wiped – left with no memory and no personality. They're helpless, even more helpless than we were when we were Actives, because they have nobody to look after them.

"Another third get imprinted with a homicidal psychotic personality. You can imagine what that means for the helpless ones. The rest seem to get random personalities – I've seen a teenaged boy with the personality of an eighty-year-old woman. These imprints can come from anywhere – any piece of technology with enough digital processing power can be subverted and used to deliver a hostile imprint. A television, a radio – even cars built in the past five years have enough computing power to zap someone's mind.

"And it's not just Los Angeles. It's the entire world. Civilization as we knew it is gone. Forget the government – it collapsed. The President and most of his administration are reported dead. There are a few areas, mostly around large military bases, that are under martial law. In the city, street gangs and other criminal organizations are the closest thing to a government left. Outside the city, it's either militia groups or chaos. There's no help coming from anywhere. We're on our own."

"Thank you, Caroline," DeWitt said. She walked the rest of the way down the stairs, so that she could look at her people face-to-face. She could see the fear and confusion that gripped them all.

"Just over two weeks ago," she said, "I received a message from my superiors. A place of refuge – an ark, they called it – had been prepared. They offered places in this refuge to myself and selected members of my staff.

"The price," she continued, "was to be the bodies of all of our Actives. They were going to take your bodies and imprint their own personalities into them. Thus giving themselves immortality, while effectively condemning all of you to death."

She looked into the eyes of the former Actives before continuing. "I let them know that their price was – unacceptable."

She walked out into the middle of the crowd. "As of this moment, I am terminating all of your contracts, due to gross violation of the terms by the Rossum Corporation. You are free to go. I regret that I cannot give you the compensation you were promised when you signed your contracts, but it would be worthless in the current environment anyway. What I have already given you is far more valuable.

"Each former Active has been given a composite imprint. Your original personality has been restored, of course, but each of you has additionally been imprinted with every personality you have had during the course of your service here. The advantages this gives you are legion. First, you all have skills that will be invaluable should you decide to leave this House and venture into the outside world.

"Secondly, your composite personalities are far more intelligent in combination than any of them was separately. The whole is far greater than the sum of its parts. You are now among the most intelligent people on this planet.

"And finally, you are effectively immune to any rogue imprints or programming that anyone might attempt to inflict upon you. Your composite personalities will simply absorb and overwhelm any attempt to subvert them."

She looked around her, gauging the reactions of the people around her. "You are, of course, free to leave this House if you wish. You will be better equipped to survive outside than most people. Although I'd caution you against searching for your family or friends. The odds are that they are either dead, or no longer able to remember who they are.

"However, I am going to offer you an alternative."

DeWitt spread her arms wide. "This House is as secure a place as exists at the moment. We are eight stories underground, and shielded against any electromagnetic signal. We have adequate supplies of food and water, we generate our own electricity, and we can defend ourselves against attack. For the immediate future, this is the safest home you can possibly have."

There were murmurs of agreement from the people around her. Then Victor said, "For the short term, yes. But we can't just hide down here forever."

"You are quite correct, Victor," DeWitt said. Then she looked up to the balcony. Caroline was sitting on the edge, with her legs dangling over the side. "Caroline, would you like to explain your plan?"

Caroline nodded. "We're going to have to leave here eventually. So we need to find a permanent home on the outside. It's my job to find that place. Any of you who want to help me, I'd welcome it."

All eyes went back to DeWitt. "So that's my offer," she said. "We stick together, and try to find a safe haven for all of us. You have all been my responsibility, and I feel that I've let you down. But this is the best I can do. And I will continue to do all that I can for you, because, quite frankly, this is all I have. This is – this is the only family I have left. I…"

Her throat suddenly tightened, and tears welled up in her eyes. The pressure, the lack of sleep, and the enormity of the situation overcame her all at once. She tried to continue speaking, but found that she couldn't.

"I'm sorry," she heard herself saying between sobs. "Oh God, oh God, I'm so sorry…" The room swayed around her, and she couldn't stay on her feet any longer.

But strong arms caught her before she could fall to the floor. Through her tears she could see the faces of Victor and Topher on either side of her, holding her up. Boyd Langton rolled his wheelchair through the crowd, and reached out a hand to her, saying, "Adelle."

And then Caroline was in front of her, taking DeWitt's hands in her own and saying, "Addie. Addie". And then, more forcefully, "_Mom!_"

"Oh Caroline," DeWitt gasped. "Forgive me. Forgive me…"

Caroline hugged her tightly, and DeWitt buried her face in Caroline's shoulder. "It's okay, Mom," she heard Caroline say. "It's okay. We're here for you."

All of the Actives – all of her children – surrounded her and reached out their hands to touch her, to let her know they forgave her for her failings.

_**

* * *

**_

June 21, 2009

It was closing in on midnight when Boyd Langton came in to Adelle DeWitt's office. "So, Mr. Langton," DeWitt said, pouring him a glass of bourbon, "How was your Father's Day?"

Langton took a grateful sip of the whiskey. "You know, I didn't think that I'd be thanking you for this," he said. "But I think I should."

"I'm glad it went well," she replied. "You do spend far too much time here. I'm grateful that you take your responsibilities so seriously, but nonetheless, I fear you might burn yourself out."

"Says the woman who is still working at 11:50 PM," Langton said.

"Touché," DeWitt said with an indulgent smile. Then she asked, "Do you ever regret it? Not having a family?"

Langton shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You probably don't know this," he said. "But… When I was a senior in high school, my girlfriend got pregnant."

DeWitt raised an eyebrow. "No, I didn't know that."

Langton shrugged. "I even offered to marry her, but no. She had an abortion instead. That was pretty much the end of the relationship, and after graduation, I ran off and joined the Marines to try to forget about her." He took another sip of the whiskey and added, "The child would have been about Echo's age. Maybe a year younger. But pretty close."

"I'm sorry, Boyd," DeWitt said soberly. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have done this."

"I'm glad you did," Langton countered. "I've always kind of wondered what it would have been like. Now I know."

DeWitt nodded thoughtfully. "You're welcome," she said. Then, "And Boyd? I've no doubt that you would have made a wonderful father."

"Thanks," Langton said. "What about you? Do you ever regret not having children?"

"Me? Indeed not," DeWitt said with a sharp edge in her voice. "I'd make an absolutely _terrible_ mother."

"Echo seems to think differently," Langton said with a smile.

"Echo's not entitled to have an opinion," DeWitt snapped.

"Maybe you should try it yourself," Langton suggested. "Next Mother's Day, Topher could imprint her…"

"_No_," DeWitt interrupted, shuddering. "Absolutely not. I forbid it."

Langton chuckled. "All right then. Still, you might be surprised if you tried it."

"No thank you," DeWitt said with a tone that invited no contradiction. "Good night, Boyd."

Langton rose to go. "Good night, Adelle," he said softly, and went out the door.

DeWitt sighed after he was gone. And then she muttered, "No. Never in a million years." She shook her head, logged off her computer, and gathered up her things to go home.

_**The End**_


End file.
